Page 33 of Claimed By the Viking

Suddenly, he was grabbing her, twisting her around so that she smacked against the unyielding tree, her breath knocking from her lungs. With nothing more than the thin shift between her and the abrasive bark, she gasped at the harsh scraping across her back, where the scar tissue was sensitive.

“You want my cock?” Viggo forced his leg between hers. “You can have it! But I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll never ask again!”

“Not like this. Please, Viggo.” She gasped out the words.

“You keep telling me what you need, so I’m giving it to you, and you’ll be getting it however I decide.” His hands squeezed her behind roughly, raising her so his thigh pressed even harder between her legs.

Desire raged in his eyes.

Dark and hungry.

Dominating.

Dangerously male.

She anticipated him wholly lifting her, wrapping her legs about his waist—as he’d done twice before, back at the hut. ‘Twas a position she found somewhat awkward but one in which he’d come quickly. That would be a blessing, wouldn’t it? Once he’d had his release, his anger would abate.

However, he whirled her about again, this time pushing her face against the trunk. Her shift was thrown up, and his erection pressed against her bottom.

Thick and hard, the feel of him enthralled her, and she arched forward, bracing her hands against the tree.

He might think to take her brutally, but she wouldn’t let it be so. She’d welcome him into her body, regardless, and revel in what he delivered. Already, a lush heat bloomed between her legs. She’d present herself to ease his penetration.

Kicking her legs apart, he grasped her hips, jerking her bottom against him again, letting her feel the rigid maleness that would soon be inside her.

Signy bit her lip, waiting for him to thrust forward and impale her, but he continued to tease.

Sliding his hands upward from her waist, he skimmed her ribs, then her breasts, before gripping her nipples with rough excitement. He pulled them hard, pinching each peak between finger and thumb.

A bolt of pleasure, fierce and wild, flashed from where he tormented her to the crux of her body, spiraling her into a place where there was only her and him and an all-consuming need.

Instinctively, her hips bucked back, and he groaned gutturally, stroking his length between her cheeks yet continuing to deny her.

“Please, Viggo,” she panted.

In riposte, his left arm wrapped tight about her middle, and he leaned upon her back.

“I’ll give you a memory to torture you.”

Just as swiftly, his right hand came up, bunching her loose-hanging hair. Tangling there, he dragged her head to the side.

With her throat exposed, he bit down with an open mouth, catching the tendon and sucking. She mewled in protest, but as he took the devouring, frenzied kiss from beneath her ear to the base of her neck, her limbs melted. His encircling arm supported her while his fist remained wound in her hair.

At last, with fire rushing through her body, he pushed into her sheath. The first stroke was smoothly driven, then he pummeled her wordlessly, pulling her back mercilessly in time with each thrust.

Signy’s body tightened with need, her nipples yearning to be rough-handled again.

Breathing heavily, Viggo pulled her upright, crushing her to him as he bit down upon her shoulder. Giving one final thrust, he cried out. His surrender brought the rushing of his seed—a rippling pulse, shooting deep.

Signy dug her nails into the arm about her waist as her own tumult took possession, shivering outward from her womb, throwing her into a shuddering, sweeping chasm. The sensation was dream-like and intensely real, as if she was aware of every part of her body simultaneously, burning hot.

Behind her, Viggo moaned, murmuring something indecipherable. His perspiration slicked her back and across her belly, where he yet held her.

She let her head fall back against his chest. ‘Twas hard to think, so great was the languor settling over her limbs, but she understood some of his words.

“Don’t hate me.” He nuzzled her neck now, where he’d bitten her before. “I hate myself, but I want you to love me. Not long. I’ll be gone. There’s nothing left.”

Was that all he could say to her?

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